


You Swallowed It?

by jlpierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Marriage Proposal, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlpierre/pseuds/jlpierre
Summary: His stomach dropped.One gulp and the contents were gone.One five hundred galleon ring, a family heirloom twisted into something new with six ruby stones littering the diamond; seven agonising days in his pocket and eight months of careful planning.All gone in one, single, gulp.





	You Swallowed It?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MotherofBulls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherofBulls/gifts).



Draco sat nervously.

He had been for several minutes, although it had felt like hours. The tablecloth had been being massaged between his shaking fingers for several seconds, to the point it had begun to crease. The empty glass before him, the one that would contain champagne in only an hour, was being traced by his finger, as though fearful it would get up and leave if he didn't.

The place, like always, was busy but not loud. The temperature warm, inviting, but not so hot it induced sweat. It had been the first place he had brought her, and from then, the place she had liked to visit several times a month—if time permitted. It had gone from being his favourite to theirs, and Draco didn't mind in the slightest.

His eyes watched the door like a hawk, trying to calm his racing nerves and the bead of sweat that seemed to build on the top of his back. Although this wasn't just dinner, it was _the_ dinner, Draco wasn't sure why he was nervous.

She was perfect, in every way. Even in the ways that annoyed him, like the fact she knew everything and was always right. Draco loved every part of her, especially the part where she had been able to forgive him, and give him another chance.

The door opened again, a gust of wind passing over his head as his heart missed a beat at the sight of her. Entering, all hair and small frame, bustled the woman that took his breath away—every, _single_ , time.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few years to figure what was right under his nose, but he wouldn't change the way they progressed from enemies to friends; wouldn't take back any part of their laughter filled relationship. What started as a late-night working on a case, became light teasing, slowly turning to wonder of what-ifs which shifted into a first kiss.

The woman, the one sliding her coat from her arms and attempting to tame her hair before she was led over to him, would always be the death of him. It was the precise reason that he couldn't spend another minute with her without asking the question; the one that had rolled around his mind since their third date, when Draco realised she wasn't like anyone else he had dated. She was so much more.

Sometimes, Draco found his work took him from her, and each time felt longer than the last. He hoped, if tonight went well, he'd be able to take her with him—making the distance seem a little less and the time apart from one another a little smaller.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, her voice soothing to his ears as he stood, pulling out her chair, "I know, _I know._ I could have Floo'd, but you know how that _blasted_ thing makes me feel on an empty stomach, and you know how much I love the egg custards from this place—"

Draco slowly pushed her chair in, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she blushed. "Breathe, Hermione. You are here. That's what matters."

Her shoulders relaxed, a soft smile broadening over her pale pink lips. "You're right."

"Makes _a_ change, doesn't it?" he said, teasing as he sat down opposite her, barely missing as she swatted him with her menu.

He didn't need to look inside, and Draco suspected neither did she. The two of them knew the menu for this place better than the wait-staff. Just like the first time they had come, Draco watched her order. Salmon to start, accompanied by a bottle of white wine. Something light so she could fill him in on her day.

Draco, at times, wasn't sure how Hermione had so much to say. Not when he had met her at lunch—like he usually did. Her food magically vanishing, even when her mouth never stopped moving. She wasn't the type to talk and eat, and yet, after all the time they had been together, he wasn't sure how she had mastered eating and talking.

When their plates were Accio'd away, they both looked down to find their starters followed by steak with a salad—no dressing, but rather a special one concocted by the chef just for them. He would, like usual, take the chance to tell her what insane project he was working on, using codenames she'd decipher in a second. Even if Draco wished too, he wasn't _smart_ enough to keep a secret from her—not that he wanted to.

No matter what part of the story he'd be at, Draco would always pause when Hermione had made her first cut into her steak. He had always liked to watch her eyes widen when she took a bite of her main course, a smile itching at the corner of her lips as she devoured it. She didn't realise she did it, which made it only the more attractive, and something he could admire without her attempting to stop it from happening.

Main came and went, their drinks empty and their fingers entwined as they looked at one another. He tried to keep his palm away from hers, not wanting her to sense the nervousness pulsing through him—or the sweat building on his skin as dessert neared.

"You okay?"

He frowned, letting a mask fall over his face—one all Malfoy's had perfected before they could talk. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione, the least coy person in any room, raised her elbow as she rested her chin on her palm. "You appear very dewy—something I've never seen on you."

Draco smirked, because what else could he do. The desperation to wipe the sweat from his brow increased with every millisecond, and so he did the only thing he could do. "Excuse me, _won't_ you?"

He slipped away from the table as she mumbled an 'of course'. He ensured he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he did, before dabbing his face on a serviette he had swiped from a nearby empty table. As he turned the corner, he made sharp eyes with the waitress he had given stern warnings to earlier.

There was a part of him—a small part—that knew he shouldn't revel in the way the waitress' eyes feared him. Draco also knew that fear meant fewer mistakes, and tonight needed to be perfect. More perfect than any other night of his existence.

"Egg custards and champagne, please?"

The waitress nodded, turning too quickly and nearly walking into a waiter with several dishes he was controlling in the air. Draco hoped the near miss was a good omen of what was to come.

He hurried back to the table just as the flutes of champagne arrived, Hermione's eyes glittering under the levitating candles above them. Before his arse had met the chair, Hermione began another breakdown of something Potter had done, and as her fingers wrapped themselves around the stem, Draco wasn't sure she had taken a second to breathe.

Draco waited, bracing as he watched her eyes as Hermione looked down at the liquid and brought the glass to her lips.

 _No_ , he thought, _she won't be foolish to drink it all in one go. Surely?_  
  
His stomach dropped.

 _One_ gulp and the contents were _gone_.

One five hundred galleon ring, a family heirloom twisted into something new with six ruby stones littering the diamond; seven _agonising_ days in his pocket and eight months of careful planning.

All gone in one, _single_ , gulp.

He felt the room pause. The air was holding its breath as all the sound was vacuumed from the room, as though it had never been there. Draco was even sure a sickle would have been heard meeting the floor in how silent the place had become. All it would take is one noise, one person to move, and the moment would shatter—or that was how it felt.

Draco was lost for words as he watched Hermione's eyes widen to a size even he wasn't able to measure.

"What did I just _swallow_?"

Draco let out a heavy sigh, trying his best not to scream the place down as his hand reached up, his thumb and index finger rubbing circles on his forehead.

"A tiny _fucking_ mansion," he grumbled under his breath.

Hermione's hand clasped to her mouth before her fingers slowly pulled on her lip. "Excuse me?"

Without thought, he ran his hand through his hair, messing up the spells and potions that had kept it in pristine place. His thoughts, however, were on himself having to sift through Hermione's excrement to find the ring—not having the courage to explain to his mother where her family heirloom was. He loved Hermione, but not enough to sift through her shit; Draco loved his mother, but not enough to be truthful about what had happened.

"I _put_ a diamond ring, in your champagne glass."

Draco managed to say it in a rather calm voice, even if his mind was screaming and the internal part of him, the one full of unsquashable rage, wanted to flip the table in anger.

" _Why_?"

Draco blinked sarcastically, his lips spreading into a thin line as he shook his head in annoyance. She was supposed to be the brightest _bloody_ witch, and yet here she was, dafter than all of them combined.

"Why? What do you mean, _why_? I was obviously going to propose, Hermione. I had no _fuc–bloody_ idea that you'd swallow the damn thing!"

Hermione's hand slid down to her throat, a grin moving over her mouth. "That–that was a ring I swallowed?"

Draco's fingers were pulling at the ends of his hair, unsure how he wouldn't be bald by the end of the evening at the rate he was tugging. "Who the fuck–"

"—Language, Draco!" Hermione interrupted.

He bit back a growl—even if it was fucking hard. "Who even _drinks_ champagne like that?!"

"I was thirsty!" Hermione snapped, a darker blush passing over her once rose covered cheeks. "Stop yelling at me. I didn't know, did I?"

Draco stared. Not sure he was even capable of doing much else. "How in _Merlin's_ name could you even swallow it _so_ easily?"

Hermione looked at him, arching one of her ridiculously bushy brows. "Hey, I thought that was one of the things you loved about me—love so much, _apparently_ , that you'd propose!"

He glared—just glared. Draco had gone back to running his hand through his hair for the second, third or even billionth time—he had lost count. He was sure it was becoming frizzy, a static feel to it with each time he did it.

"At least, it's something to tell the _children_ ," she shrugged as Draco let out a painful sigh, dropping his head to the toilet—not even caring what society thought of him. "I'd have said yes, by the way."

Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting her eyes as he felt strands of his hair fall over his face. "Would it be bad of me to bloody hope you would have, for one it's not as though I can return it after it's made friends with your colon now can I?"

Hermione moved her hand across the table finding his. "Draco, honey? I love you, okay?"

"Love you," he grunted.

She made sure to squeeze his hand. "I want to be your wife." His eyes blinked several times, really trying to treasure the moment for what it was—even if it was a complete fucking mess. "I would love to marry you, to agree to be your fiance—in six to eight hours...  _possibly_."

"You're not _even_ funny."

Grasping his flute, she brought it to her lips with a smirk—one he knew she had mastered from him. "We both know I am."

Draco slowly sat up, allowing the natural smile that her presence created to pass over him. She shrugged her shoulders as his heart did a little flip in his chest, watching as a soft laugh took over her, forcing her eyes to twinkle like the stars above, and glisten like the ocean at night.

" _You_ are going to give me a heart attack one day."

He turned his hand in hers, allowing her fingers to slide between his. "I count on it, Draco. Now, more champagne?"

Draco glared teasingly. "You're enjoying this too much."

" _Maybe_?" she said with a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> Find Me On Tumblr: [josiepierre](https://josiepierre.tumblr.com)  
> Or on Facebook at [jlpierre](https://www.facebook.com/jlpierrewriter/)  
> 


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